


Ricochet

by scribblscrabbl



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblscrabbl/pseuds/scribblscrabbl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve punches Tony and one time he does something else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ricochet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aaahha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaahha/gifts).



i.

After Thor leaves for Asgard, things calm down and Steve's restlessness sets in again. He still feels like he's just woken up from sixty plus years of uninterrupted sleep, still stumbling to keep up with this faster, louder world he's suddenly found himself in. He hardly remembers if this is how peacetime is supposed to be, and something itches under his skin, like it wants to start another war.

S.H.I.E.L.D. calls them in one-by-one for debriefing before Fury lectures them on team-building, and the responsibilities they now have as defenders of the free world. To Steve it's not much different from what he was used to. He sits next to Clint and across from Tony, who talks like he has some place better to be, like he's already forgotten they've fought side-by-side, and that might not mean anything to him but it means something to Steve.

"Why do you always have to act like you don't give a damn about anyone?" He stops Tony when they've just stepped out the door. The halls in this wing are polished and white, and he's reminded of a hospital.

"Most people don't walk around with a hero complex. Do us all a favor and try to blend in, huh?" Tony says and then he's back to playing with his phone like he's decided the conversation's over.

Steve grinds his teeth. "Is it so hard to admit there's something out there you're willing to fight for?"

"And then what? Grow up to be a cookie-cutter supersoldier just like you? I've known plenty of men who think they're fighting the good fight. Most of them end up being another body on the battlefield."

Steve thinks about the men he's lost, he thinks about Bucky, and he punches Tony, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

"Ow." Tony works his jaw slowly and then prods it with two careful fingers, eyes letting slip a thing that looks a little like regret. "I had that coming, didn't I."

Steve figures it's about the closest he'll get to an apology.

 

ii.

The next psychopath that wrecks Manhattan is another Asgardian god with an army. When Fury briefs them, Tony rolls his eyes and calls it predictable. Turns out they can't say, if you've fought a god, you've fought them all. This one Steve can't even get close to without reliving Bucky's death over and over again, seeing Peggy standing alone in front of the Stork Club in her dancing shoes, faces of the dead telling him he has no right to be alive. But he carries on, even after his shield gets broken in half, and Thor comes through for them in the end. 

After they get rid of their suits--Steve has to peel his off, piece by tattered piece--they wind up on Tony's couch, watching the news and drinking some concoction that tastes like it dripped out of one of the machines in Tony's lab.

"This is potent stuff. I urge everyone to take it easy," Tony says before taking a generous swig of it. He's paler than usual, mouth hard and eyes a little wild, out of focus like he's somewhere else. Steve wonders what he saw, what Tony Stark is most afraid of, but he doesn't ask. 

It only takes thirty minutes for Tony to get drunk, so drunk that Steve thinks he might be a fire hazard. 

"We probably should've cut him off about thirty minutes ago." Natasha eyes Tony, who's somehow found Thor's cape and put it on to pretend he's Superman. 

Steve tries to take his drink away and has to dodge a flailing hand, watching as Tony stumbles dangerously and almost trips and flies head first into the coffee table. In the end he tells himself it's for Tony's own good when he knocks him out cold with one solid punch. 

"He's gonna hate the world in the morning." Bruce shakes his head sympathetically.

Steve pauses before rearranging Tony's limbs on the couch, thinking with half a smile that it's the first time he's seen Tony so quiet.

 

iii.

"Did you know Tony also enjoys boxing?" Pepper tells Steve one day when Tony's fixing his shield, looking at them like that's their cue to start bonding over a common interest and it's supposed to be easy.

They don't get around to it until Steve runs out of punching bags and Phil tells him he has to wait another three days before the new ones come in.

"You must've seen some legends in your day. Dempsey, Louis, Robinson."

They're sitting by the ring, wrapping their hands.

"Never saw Dempsey, but my dad listened to his fights when I was a kid, on a busted radio that didn't work half the time."

There's surprise in Tony's eyes before he reins it in. "You've never mentioned your dad."

Steve shrugs and pulls on his gloves. "He died when I was six. He was a good man."

They leave it at that and put on their headgear before stepping into the ring. 

They circle each other for a moment, taking a few jabs to warm up their limbs and gauge their distance. Steve keeps a careful eye on Tony because he doesn't remember the last time he faced an opponent, and because Tony's built like a boxer, all dense muscle and coiled strength, no doubt dangerous enough to make it count when he takes a punch.

His first cross is half-hearted and Steve blocks it easily. Then their gloves start flying.

"Can't take the heat, old man? Where d'you learn to box, the geriatric ward?"

Tony delivers another cross that nearly cuts through his defenses.

"Your dad taught me a thing or two," he says, catching Tony off guard and his next uppercut catches Tony right in the jaw.

He retreats a little as Tony shakes his head and blinks. 

"I didn't know he boxed." His voice is light as a feather, careless, and Steve's starting to learn that's the way it is when Tony cares too much. (It bothers him less when he thinks that for a guy who never wears his heart on his sleeve, it must be nothing short of terrifying to have it on full display in the middle of his chest.)

"I guess he did," he says, and leaves it at that.

 

iv.

"Do me a favor and punch me in the face."

Steve's reading the paper in the lounge when Tony walks in, trying to button his cuffs with his sports jacket slipping off the crook of his elbow.

"What?" Steve's not sure he heard right.

"Hit me. Rough me up a little. Preferably the right cheek, I'm partial to the left one."

"Uh."

"I had a meeting with Pepper about--something, and I forgot about it, for a perfectly legitimate reason but you know how relentless she is, so my plan is to walk into her office with a few cuts and bruises and tell her I was too busy saving the world. It's a foolproof plan. What could possibly be more important than saving the world, right?"

Steve sets down his paper and frowns. "Why don't you just tell her the truth?"

"Well. Okay, so when I said perfectly legitimate reason, I meant pretty shitty reason. As in, I was in the middle of a Wii tennis rematch with Thor." Steve gives him a withering look. "What? I was winning! Anyway, I'd blame it on Thor but she'll probably find that suspicious."

"I wonder why." Steve mutters under his breath and then clears his throat. "I'm not punching you. Just tell her the truth anyway. Honesty's always the best policy."

Tony looks pained. "Have you never faced the wrath of a woman? And Pepper's not just a woman. She's a woman in a power suit and heels. Sharp, pointy heels."

Steve remembers he was lucky to have his shield in his hands when Peggy took those shots at him, stance wide, eyes fierce, and uniform perfectly pressed. He remembers feeling them ricochet off the steel, and the hard line of her mouth wavering just before she turned away. He's felt the wrath of a woman all right, but still he hesitates.

"Okay, forget what I just said. Consider it retribution for all the hilarious jokes I've made at your expense. How about that? Or punishment for my deplorable ways. Whatever makes you sleep better at night. Because, let's face it, no matter how hard you hit me and why, you'll still be the better man."

Tony stands there like he didn't just give a part of himself away, something valuable and painfully fragile, easily bent and broken in the wrong hands. Steve takes a moment to stow it away with care, not quite sure what to make of it yet, before giving Tony what he wants.

 

v.

Steve's still in bed when Fury calls to tell him Captain America's wreaking havoc in the Lower East Side, terrorizing civilians and resisting authorities. He stumbles over to the living room and turns on the television, a set that looks as old as he is but he doesn't mind because it's the first time he's ever had one of his own. He sees himself on the channel five news throwing a cop through the window of a storefront and sits down hard on the edge of his couch. They figure it's a shapeshifter, origins unknown, and Fury says he better sit this one out. The line goes dead before he can argue.

He eyes the scene on the screen for another minute before he's out the door, sprinting down the street because he can't be bothered to get his motorcycle. When he arrives, Tony's the only one there, in his suit with his faceplate up and hands raised like he thinks he can talk some sense into the guy. Before Steve can get to him, the shifter smiles, a deranged smile never meant to fit Steve's face, and punches Tony with enough force to send him flying. 

"Hey!" Steve walks forward. "I'd appreciate it if you gave me back my face."

His look-a-like turns, eyes pitch black, body shivering unnaturally, and then he disappears.

"Creepy." Tony walks up beside him with a nasty bruise spreading over his left cheekbone approximately the size of Steve's fist. "Wait, how do I know you're not an imposter? Tell me something only you would know."

"You blew up my shield last week when you were testing the new alloy mix."

"Technically, your shield blew up my lab."

Steve tries to contain a smile. "We should probably check in with Fury."

"Jarvis." Tony pauses. "Yea, he's gone. Rogers is with me. Don't worry he's the real deal, I checked. Uh-huh, okay, we'll take the rest of the day off, sit by the pool, drink a few Mai Tais, you guys do your thing."

Steve raises his eyebrows.

"They confirmed he's a mutant. Probably some kid with a lot of teenage angst and Captain America memorabilia. Anyway, he's Xavier's problem now."

Tony's bruise looks worse already and Steve can't help feeling a pang of guilt, however irrational. Sometimes he forgets that Tony's not really made of steel.

"You should ice that." He reaches up with one hand only to let it fall before his fingers meet skin.

Tony's mouth curves into something genuine that plants itself in Steve's chest, a little unfamiliar, a little frightening, but warm all the same.

"I think my face is getting overly fond of your fist. Or is it the other way around."

Steve frowns. "Technically, I've only ever hit you once. And you admitted you deserved it."

"You know, contrary to my track record with you, I have pretty solid people skills. You just have a knack of pushing the wrong buttons." Tony's teasing with guarded eyes that leave Steve a little disappointed but he smiles anyway.

(He knows by now that Tony trusts him with his life, but figures his heart is something else entirely.)

 

vi.

The ceiling in his bedroom caves in one morning and there's enough damage to convince him to move out until the repairs are done. Tony can't understand why he hasn't bought a more respectable place, or moved permanently into Stark Tower where Tony's already carved out room for all of them. He doesn't tell Tony he's just not suited to marble bathrooms and floor-to-ceiling windows. But this time he has no excuse and Tony won't take no for an answer, so he packs up a few things and heads uptown.

The first night he's there he can't sleep, not because he isn't comfortable--he's pretty sure Tony paid more for the bed than he pays for rent--but because nothing's familiar and he feels like even the air he's breathing might've cost something. 

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands before rolling out from under the sheets, suddenly needing to get out of his head because he's sounding ungrateful and it's the last thing he wants to do.

He heads to the kitchen and finds Tony there, slumped at the counter in front of a gallon of ice cream.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Tony looks up, spoon stuck in his mouth, hair sticking up a little in the back, and it's oddly endearing.

"Insomnia runs in the family. Ice cream? Spoons are in there."

Steve walks over and opens the drawer. His bare feet tingle against the cold hardwood.

"You planning on finishing all that?" he asks and watches Tony slide his tongue against the back of his spoon.

"Absolutely. What's the use of being an adult if you can't make yourself sick from eating an entire gallon of ice cream in one sitting?"

Steve laughs and reaches over to get his own spoonful. When he looks up again Tony's watching him strangely.

"You don't do that a lot. At least not with me." 

"What?" The word is muffled by the spoon in his mouth and he takes it out quickly. "Do what?"

"Laugh." 

The ice cream slides sweet and cool down his throat and Tony keeps watching him, like this time he's looking for a little give and take.

Instead of answering, Steve leans in, frames his face with both hands, and kisses him, tasting chocolate and cream and Tony, and it all makes him a little weak in the knees. It's nothing like kissing a woman but he figures it's probably nothing like kissing anyone. Then Tony's biting his lips and sliding his tongue through, and the slick heat of it shoots south through the pit of his stomach, making him groan into Tony's mouth.

He pulls away heaving for breath, hands still cupping Tony's face, toes curled against the floorboards. 

"Would you believe me if I said I've fantasized about this? Like, a lot." 

Tony's mouth is swollen, pupils blown, and Steve shivers at the sight and the words. 

"You might have some convincing to do." 

Tony smiles then, one of those rare smiles that makes him think they both knew where they wanted to be, the only question was just how hard they'd fight themselves and each other before they got there. And when he leans in again, crowding Tony against the counter, he thinks it couldn't have been any other way.


End file.
